Griffin
I sort through the files on my desk searching for Morgan Tresoni’s. Even though I finished every bite of the breakfast taco platter Lana ordered for me earlier, I still feel queasy. I could get Joyce to run to the Roasting Point Café two blocks over to get me another coffee, but I decide to hea
d out to fetch it myself.
I pay her too much to have her run errands for me. Besides, I could use the fresh air.
“I hear that you killed it in court today.” Dylan appears in the open doorway of my office just as I’m about to stand. “You got Mrs. Lindel everything she wanted. Good job.”
“Everything but a future with her family intact.” I shake my head. “She’s torn up about the end of her marriage. The money will make her life easier, but it’s not a cure-all.”
“It never is.” He takes a seat in one of the two black leather guest chairs in front of my desk. “She’ll survive. Her kids will pull her through.”
He’s right. She will. Candy Lindel is a fighter. She’ll turn her focus from her bastard of an ex-husband to her kids. That will be her solace as she heals over the next few months.
“I’m going to grab a coffee. Do you want one?”
He shakes his head. “I want to talk about last night.”
“Who you fuck is your business, Dylan.”
He clears his throat. It’s a subject we never talk about. Dylan confessed his past sins over a pint of beer one night in college. That was ten years ago. Since then, I’m the only one who brings it up. I only ever do it when I feel the walls of my own past closing in on me.
It’s a defense mechanism. I know it. Dylan does too, but it’s still an asshole move on my part.
“Don’t go there,” he bites out. “I’m trying to take into consideration how shit-faced you were when you showed up at my place.”
He’s trying to let it go. He’s a bigger man than I’ll ever be.
“I had a few drinks with Sebastian.” I shrug it off. “The scotch got the better of me.”
He rubs his jaw, his eyes surveying my face. “It had nothing to do with your art teacher?”
It had everything to do with her, but I’m not about to own that. “I got drunk. It happens. There doesn’t have to be some deep, dark reason for me to indulge in too much scotch.”
“I’ve known you for a decade, Griffin.” His gaze narrows as he stands. “I know all the deep, dark reasons for everything you do.”
He does. Unlike Dylan, I’ve brought my past mistakes into not only our friendship but also our practice. He’s always there to clean up after me even if it means he bears more than his fair share of the workload.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I say sarcastically with a grin. “The one you were with last night was cute. Are you going to see her again?”
I already know the answer to that question. She’s not Eden, a girl he met in high school. She took off with a piece of his heart after the worst night of his life.
He’ll be caught in his never-ending quest to find a woman who can measure up to her for the rest of his life.
“You know that I won’t.” He looks down at my desk. “I have no complaints, Griffin. I live my life the way I want. You need to start doing the same.”
If I thought that was possible, I would, but when you carry the weight of someone else’s dreams on your shoulders, it leaves little room for your own.
***
When I walk into the Grant Gallery, I’m surprised to see Piper standing alone, dressed very differently than she was when I saw her earlier at the diner.
Her hair is pinned up into a messy pile on the top of her head. She’s wearing a black lace top and white pants. I take a beat to soak in the sight of her.
Jesus, she’s a beautiful woman.
When she looks up from the sculpture in her hands, her eyes catch mine and I swear to fuck I see the same spark in them that I feel every time I look at her.